


The Universe on Your Side

by theshipstorulethemallwrites



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Desk Sex, F/M, Fix-It, Reunion Sex, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipstorulethemallwrites/pseuds/theshipstorulethemallwrites
Summary: Steve and Diana set the world ablaze with the depth of what they were feeling when he comes back to her





	The Universe on Your Side

Diana traced the photograph that Bruce had sent her. It was lovely to have him back, at least the memory of him. She remembered his warmth, his words, his wonder but she’d forgotten what he looked like, the way he stood. It had been decades of forgetting and trying in vain to hold onto him. She hadn’t realized until she lost him and felt her heart simultaneously break and burn at once, that something her mother had neglected to inform her was that Amazons are cursed yet also blessed to have one true romantic love of their lives. They could find pleasure in others but the connection, the immediate feeling of belonging, that she felt with Steve could never be replaced. 

She misses him, still. It doesn’t matter that she has his face back in her life, at least in a picture form.  There’s an ache in her heart that never quite fades. It grows less painful when she’s fighting for humanity, fighting for the goodness she knows exists in the human race, a goodness she sees everyday when she watches children rush excitedly to different exhibits in the museum, watches lovers hold hands as they study painting, a group of students discussing the merits of different representations within media of this figure or that myth. It’s on display constantly. She thinks that’s why art is so valuable, it brings out the curiosity and the passion that exists within the people she’s chosen to protect and it’s a reason why of all the jobs she’s had during her years on this planet, that working around any type of art is so often her chosen profession. As much as she’s helped trained militaries, taught self defence class, studied military history, there’s a lack of beauty, of the artistry that her family so often showed. It helped that they had years of peace. Antiope had often held contests for the warriors, who could create the craziest move? It was Ilyana who had invented the upside down on horseback with fire coming from all angles that had caused Steve to look at her in such awe on that beach.

She placed the photograph back in the box and slide it into the top drawer of her desk. Her weapons were displayed with the rest of precious artifacts around the room, the only difference was the way they seemed to glow when the sunlight glinted a certain way. But no one came by her office, off the corner of one of the many greek exhibits, she was simply left alone to study and remember and try to immortalize those memories. Which is why she was so surprised when she heard a knock. 

“Yes, who is it?”

“Ms. Prince, it’s Andrew, I have a guest here to see you.”

Diana knows that Andrew can’t see her raise her eyebrow in doubt. She knows that she could take whoever it is but she smooths down her skirt and stands up to greet whoever has come to visit. 

“Come on in.” She requests and the door opens and the person standing before her must be a _ghost_. She didn’t think ghosts existed but she’s a goddess, a goddess who had never met a man before coming here, who knows what she is unaware of. 

“ _Diana_.” 

She swears she hears the ghost speak, which must be impossible, but he sounds like _her_ Steve. He sounds like he’s saying her name as though it is an answer to a long forgotten question, as though it is an act of absolution. 

It’s the way Steve had said her name that night in Vlad, the night in the dark when they set the world ablaze with the depth of what they were feeling. 

And she clenches her fists at her side, taking a deep breath and trying to contain the tears she knows are trying to escape her eyes. She walks over and swings her fist at the ghost, it should just go through, but instead the ghost brings up a solid arm and blocks her punch. He grimaces in pain, a look at odds with the grin still shining in his eyes as he looks at her. 

“ _Steve_?” she mummers, letting her arm fall to her side as she gazes at him.

“Yeah, Diana. It’s me.” he whispers, reaching out with his hand and brushing a small strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering there like he wants to stay touching her forever. There’s a gentleness to his touch, as though he knows that he’s touching something worth worshipping and Diana leans in, a small smile turning up her lips.

“ _Steve._ ” She gasps out, her fingers reaching towards his face and tracing his jaw and his cheeks and his nose and oh Zeus, he’s real. He’s warm. 

He’s looking at her like _she’s_ the one that has been brought back to life.

“You were,” here her voice trails off as the word gets stuck in her heart, a swirling blackness overcomes her and she pushes him away. Turning away to face her desk and taking several deep breaths.

He reaches towards her and she can feel the pull of his hand hovering over her shoulder. She shakes her head and turns to face him again and stares at him, drinking him in. The way his hair slightly falls over his forehead, the blue of his eyes, the rusty pink of his lips. She’d forgotten what he looked like when the sun illuminated him, when color shined through him. He is a sunset after centuries of darkness and he’d never seemed more beautiful.

“We can talk about it later.” she says, stepping towards him this time, the shock fading away to desire. But he, still after all these years, can shock her when he shakes his head and walks over to where she’s hung her lasso. 

“Steve.” she whispers, hopelessly in love with him as he offers it to her, as he offers her the truth before their lips even touch but she nods. She takes the lasso and wraps it around his hands.

“You were dead?” she asks, her words coming out shakily.

“Yes, I was. I don’t remember where I woke up. I don’t remember how I woke up. I just remember one all consuming thought.  _ You _ . And I started walking. I walked for hours and it was scary because I was covered in dirt and partially naked. My clothes burned off in the plane crash and some nice old lady gave me clothes that she’d just dryed. I’m not entirely sure how I got to Paris. How I knew you were in Paris but it was like a magnet in my heart that was pulling me towards you. This world is weird. I don’t recognize the buildings, I was in Paris during the war, and the clothes. It’s so unnerving.”

Diana lets out a laugh at his tone as he tries to express just how befuddled he is at the world a nearly a century after he lived. He sighs in relief as she removes the lasso, still the spy instincts make him dislike being forced to reveal the truth. 

He looks at her and a slow smile comes across his face as he quips, “Well, now you must teach me. I fear our positions have reversed.”

She steps closer to him, dropping the lasso on her chair and finally, finally, pressing her lips to his. It’s like the background noise that Diana had gotten used to, the background conversations of tourists fade away as the world narrows down to just the two of them. He nibbles on her lower lip and she opens her lips, feeling his tongue sweep into her mouth and instead of that one night long ago she now knows how to respond. Their tongues explore each other’s mouths and Diana sighs as she recalls what it is like to be kissed like someone’s entire soul is doing the deed. His hands undo her hair, letting it come down in waves while her hands continue to stroke his face, the firm lines of his jaw. They pull back slowly, barely centimeters apart and he brushes her hair back again. They are standing there, gazing at each other and Diana is the first one to move, her lips quirking into a wide grin as she pushes off his jacket. And Steve, standing there in a white t-shirt and jeans, looking like a dream that Diana rarely let herself have. Standing there and letting the embers of desire become a full blown fire. She turns away, licking her lips as she shuts and locks the door. When she turns back around, she notices how his eyes have become a darker shade of blue, the pupils growing bigger as he gazes at her. It’s a look she’s seen in many since her arrival but it’s a look she only saw that night in Vlad. It’s a look that promises to worship her and she knows that she’s giving him the exact same look, hunger, desire and love competing in her eyes. 

“ _ Steve _ .”

“ _ Diana _ .”

It feels like an echo of her own murmur of his name, said in the same awed tone right before they crash into each other and the hurricane that is their love consumes them both whole.

The watch that was his father’s, that is hers, the reminder that time still ticks, seems incredibly loud as the silence seems to mark the moment when their lips touch, when their hands grip, when their hearts melt, when their souls fuse together.

He starts to unbutton her shirt, biting his lip in concentration, as she removes his shirt and lets her hands trace the smooth lines of skin, the burns mark that she’s looking for aren’t there. When he finally gets it unbuttoned, she shrugs it off. 

And there they stand, surrounded by weapons, ancient shields that protected the vulnerable and swords that wounded, but half naked and looking like they are in a place where space and time cannot touch, their lips press together. 

A soft touch, a sensual touch, a press that nearly screams their love for each other. And as it deepens, their hands start to move, setting off a frenzy where one hand buries in their hand as the other moving lower. Steve pulls a little on Diana’s hair and she moans in his mouth as her hand starts to undo his jeans.

“Wait,” he mutters, her mouth nearly swallowing up his request but Diana pulls her hand away, moving it to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer still so she can find every crevice in his mouth. He breaks the kiss to breath, resting his forehead on hers as his hands still remain wrapped around her waist. 

“What is it?” she asks, one hand still running through his hair, trying to bring his mouth back to hers, bring him back into her orbit. 

“I want. I want to touch you _everywhere_.”

The request comes out strangled, a blush coloring Steve’s face and Diana smirks. Reaching behind her to unlatch her bra, she lets it fall and Steve reaches out, staring at her in awe, trying to figure out where to look. 

She kicks off her heels, unzips her skirt and and lets it fall as she walks towards him. 

“Steve?” she questions, waving a hand in front of his face in concern when the only movement he’s made for the past few minutes has been to blink and breath.

“You’re so beautiful,” he gasps out, sitting down on the edge of her desk and pulling her closer. His hands skim the sides of her legs as though he’s afraid to touch her too much. And his mouth presses a kiss to her lips before moving lower, a kiss to her shoulder, to the top of her breasts, a soft press to both her nipples and then lower still. 

“ _Steve_.” Diana gasps out, as he presses a gentle nip to her hip. Her hands move to grip his hair, tugging slightly and he looks up at, a slight frown on his face as his hands make circles around her thighs. 

“Let me.” she whispers, bending down in front of him and his hands slide up to tangle in her hair as she pulls off his jeans and underwear, his hips lifting off the desk so she can let them pool beneath their feet. 

“Wow.” she whispers and Steve looks at her like he feels the same sense of awe and adoration as one of his hands moves to her back to pull her closer until his dick is pressing against her sex. 

“Diana, _please_.” Steve whispers, straining against her and Diana catches his lips into a fierce kiss, her hair falling over his shoulder as she moves to sit on his lap. One of hands moves to hold her steady, fingers digging into her bottom as she slowly begins to move up and down on him. Eyes blown, lips swollen, and the room silent except for their moans and each other’s names. They stay there, naked and in love as Steve moves against her gasping out her name like a prayer and then Diana feels a building burst of fire and she shudders against him, teeth scraping his shoulder as she bites down to prevent herself from screaming his name. 

She doesn’t say the words she’s spent the entire time together biting into his skin, leaving in the corners of his mouth and spelling into his body with her hands. She needs to but in this moment, their bodies made one, their souls made whole she knows that he knows and she soaks up the feeling of him. Of Steve. Of the one she loves, returned to her and resting in her arms as their lips leave love marks on each other. She trusts that they will have time. 

“That was,” Steve’s voice trails off and instead of trying to find words in one of the many languages she knows to finish what she knows he's trying to say, the same thing she wants to say, Diana simply kisses him, pulling him close and feeling for the first time in a century completely at peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> so I need them to be happy and dammit Steve isn't dead!
> 
> Title comes from Ground Control by All Time Low
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://the-ships-to-rule-them-all.tumblr.com)


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